By 10.05 am this morning I had read a whole slate of reviews of a gadget that I do not want. The words said one thing but the pictures of the svelte, alluring, suavely curvaceous beauty of the artefact said quite another. “It is a solution without a problem!” I repeated with growing desperation. I think that the trick is never, ever actually hold one – or possibly even see one in the flesh, so to speak. Ever.
The day started in a selfishly morose fashion with a sulky sun hiding spitefully behind odious looking clouds. In Britain the climate for the day would have been set and I still preserve the particularly British pessimism that anything short of bright, direct sunlight feeds on! This, however, is Spain and the clouds lifted and soon we were bathed in sunlight.
Lunch was in the centre of Castelldefels in the restaurant that we sometimes use: Fideúa, duck and cheese cake washed down with house red and the fizzy water that one takes in summer. All eaten and drunk outside in what passes for a Ramblas in our little town with life passing fascinatingly by as one eats.
The photography that was supposed to be a keynote of today has taken a second place and I am finding in the desultory shots that I have taken that the omission of a viewfinder in the camera is a larger loss than I would have expected. I do not find the same immediacy with the image as I did with the other camera. This is very odd as I have been using digital cameras for some time, but as this one is something of a replacement for my larger canon, I am expecting it to do as much if not more than the other. When there seem to be differences they are magnified. But this is still the time of finding out rather than giving final assessments.
This evening is the final of the Eurovision Song Contest. I don’t think that I can keep on pretending that I only watch it in a mood of post-modern irony considering that I don’t think that I have missed a performance in the past umpteen years!
Obviously the voting is one of the highlights as is my inevitable vow never to watch it ever again if the travesty of democracy is allowed to continue. And so on. Until the next year when prurient curiosity always gets the better of me.
Spain, this year, has a reasonable chance with a personable (if inordinately curly) young man singing a catchy tune with odd, if likable choreography from marionette type dancers. As Spain is not an odd part of the ludicrous Balkans or a tattered part of what used to be one of the superpowers it has little chance of gaining enough votes to put it in the running for the Eurovision crown. However, I am going to download some score sheets for the contest sot that I can have a totally unbiased and authoritative view of what should have happened!
The pool has started to be used on an almost daily basis by someone – who is sometimes me – and the water is getting to the temperature where cardiac arrest is not a probable element of submersion. I really must get back to taking my swimming seriously as even after a relatively gentle twenty minutes I feel as if I have done serious exercise!
Now to find the score sheets. The drinks, snacks and enthusiasm are all ready to be depleted!
The day started in a selfishly morose fashion with a sulky sun hiding spitefully behind odious looking clouds. In Britain the climate for the day would have been set and I still preserve the particularly British pessimism that anything short of bright, direct sunlight feeds on! This, however, is Spain and the clouds lifted and soon we were bathed in sunlight.
Lunch was in the centre of Castelldefels in the restaurant that we sometimes use: Fideúa, duck and cheese cake washed down with house red and the fizzy water that one takes in summer. All eaten and drunk outside in what passes for a Ramblas in our little town with life passing fascinatingly by as one eats.
The photography that was supposed to be a keynote of today has taken a second place and I am finding in the desultory shots that I have taken that the omission of a viewfinder in the camera is a larger loss than I would have expected. I do not find the same immediacy with the image as I did with the other camera. This is very odd as I have been using digital cameras for some time, but as this one is something of a replacement for my larger canon, I am expecting it to do as much if not more than the other. When there seem to be differences they are magnified. But this is still the time of finding out rather than giving final assessments.
This evening is the final of the Eurovision Song Contest. I don’t think that I can keep on pretending that I only watch it in a mood of post-modern irony considering that I don’t think that I have missed a performance in the past umpteen years!
Obviously the voting is one of the highlights as is my inevitable vow never to watch it ever again if the travesty of democracy is allowed to continue. And so on. Until the next year when prurient curiosity always gets the better of me.
Spain, this year, has a reasonable chance with a personable (if inordinately curly) young man singing a catchy tune with odd, if likable choreography from marionette type dancers. As Spain is not an odd part of the ludicrous Balkans or a tattered part of what used to be one of the superpowers it has little chance of gaining enough votes to put it in the running for the Eurovision crown. However, I am going to download some score sheets for the contest sot that I can have a totally unbiased and authoritative view of what should have happened!
The pool has started to be used on an almost daily basis by someone – who is sometimes me – and the water is getting to the temperature where cardiac arrest is not a probable element of submersion. I really must get back to taking my swimming seriously as even after a relatively gentle twenty minutes I feel as if I have done serious exercise!
Now to find the score sheets. The drinks, snacks and enthusiasm are all ready to be depleted!
No comments:
Post a Comment